


Secret, self-contained, solitary as an oyster

by a_big_apple



Series: and it's bright [7]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Catharsis, Dreams, F/F, Family, Fluff, Identity, Nesting, Pearl Solidarity (Steven Universe), Pearls Need Hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23761561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_big_apple/pseuds/a_big_apple
Summary: “I see,” Pearl says, sliding the clipboard back across the desk. “When did they arrive?”“Wednesday. They seemed so sweet when they came by, all holding hands like we might try to split ‘em up. They were real happy when I told them they could share. It’ll be nice to have other pearls around, huh?” Pearl hums noncommittally, and Spudomene reaches across the desk to pat her arm. “Aw, don’t be like that. You’re still our Renegade.”Pearl plasters on a smile. “Thanks."Or: Pearl comes to terms with her own identity, and also falls in love.
Relationships: Bismuth/Pearl (Steven Universe), Bismuth/Pearl/Volleyball, Pearl/Pink Diamond's Pearl (Steven Universe), Pearl/Pink Diamond’s Original Pearl | Volleyball
Series: and it's bright [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619890
Comments: 49
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This fic just sort of happened without a plan or an outline, so it wound up spanning a period of time from just before the start of Future to after Bismuth Casual. It also encompasses another fic I wrote, "So here's the part where you make a choice," which you don't have to read to get this but you might want to if you like Volleypearl. :) This also owes a lot to many conversations I've been part of in a Pearl discord server. You know who you are. <3

Once a week, Pearl stops by the Little Homeworld housing office to check the new permanent residence requests. She used to read the list every day, back when the school first opened, but the rush of new arrivals has slowed in the past year. Still, it’s useful to keep tabs on which gems have opted to stay and tailor the course offerings to what they might need.

Spudomene is ready for her when Pearl comes in, holding out the clipboard with a curiously wide smile. “Interesting list this week! Oh, and Bismuth said to tell you to stop by the forge before you go home.”

“All right, thanks.” Pearl leans her elbows on the desk and scans the list, hyperaware of Spudomene watching her face. _What could be so_ — _oh._

_Single-dwelling cohabitation request:_

_-Pearl bivalve 1 graft 2A - planet of origin: Homeworld - last occupation: Co-Head of the Diamond Broadcasting Network_

_-Pearl bivalve 1 graft 2B - planet of origin: Homeworld - last occupation: Co-Head of the Diamond Broadcasting Network_

_-Pearl bivalve 1 graft 3A - planet of origin: Homeworld - last occupation: compulsory service to White Diamond_

_Assigned dormitory 12, apartment C_

“I see,” Pearl says, sliding the clipboard back across the desk. “When did they arrive?”

“Wednesday. They seemed so sweet when they came by, all holding hands like we might try to split ‘em up. They were real happy when I told them they could share. It’ll be nice to have other pearls around, huh?” Pearl hums noncommittally, and Spudomene reaches across the desk to pat her arm. “Aw, don’t be like that. You’re still our Renegade.”

Pearl plasters on a smile. “Thanks. See you at Human Tech on Tuesday?”

“Bright and early. Don’t forget to go see Bis!” Waving behind her as she goes, Pearl sighs and heads across the square to the forge.

Bismuth likes to be in the middle of things, and it’s clear from the placement of her workspace. Her old forge is still accessible if she needs it or wants to get away somewhere quiet, but the new one is less than twenty feet from the Little Homeworld warp pad and the door is always open. The arrangement seems to suit her, more than a secret armory underneath a mountain ever did; Pearl can hear her humming as she works, setting a rhythm for the clanging of the anvil.

She lingers in the door, just watching. Bismuth definitely knows she’s there—her smile widens a fraction and the arc of her hammer arm gets bigger, showy. So predictable, and it puts Pearl at ease. After a few more ostentatious _clangs_ , Bismuth shakes her arm back out into a hand and dips the blade she was working into a water bucket. She sets it aside amidst the burst of steam, then turns to Pearl with hands on her hips. “ _Just_ the pearl I wanted to see,” she says with a grin, and spreads her arms; Pearl gives up a laugh and jumps lightly into them.

“Usually the _only_ pearl,” she mutters as Bismuth squeezes the life out of her.

“So you heard! Good, ‘cause that’s why I need your advice.”

Bismuth’s hands and arms radiate heat like stones left in the sunlight; when she finally puts Pearl back on her feet, Pearl can’t help but loop her arms around one of Bismuth’s and hang on to her. “Please don’t pick _them_ up off the ground and squeeze them, they might be skittish.”

“Nah. Pearls love me! It’s the biceps. And maybe the hair.”

Pearl shoves her with a shoulder, but keeps hold of her arm. “Don’t make typist generalizations. I’m the only pearl you actually know.”

“Not for long, after those three sweethearts see the nest I’m makin’ ‘em!”

Pearl pulls back to look up at Bismuth’s pleased expression. “A nest?”

With a tug Bismuth leads her over to the messy worktable, flattening out a drawing under her hand. “Yep! They gave me some specs, but I wanted your input. It is a pearl thing, right? I’ve never built one.”

Pearl reaches out to brush her fingers across the sketch. It’s oblong, curved to a gentle point at one end and a rippling flared edge at the other, and based on the measurements it’s more than large enough for three pearls to curl up in the center where Bismuth has scribbled _pillows? blankets?_ in her blocky hand.

It’s an oyster. Not quite like the sterile ones pearls are made in at the Reef, that Pearl herself was made in, but it’s close enough to make her go cold and warm at once.

“Hey,” Bismuth murmurs, laying a hand lightly on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she replies, not taking her eyes from the drawing. She traces the ruffly edge with a finger. “Maybe a water mattress. For the middle. Steven begged us for one when he was small, but I was worried it would burst and flood the house.”

“Yeah?”

“I doubt they’ll know what it is. But suggest it. Could you make something the right shape? Lapis could fill it from the ocean.”

“Easy peasy.” Pearl finally blinks and pulls her gaze away; when she looks up, Bismuth is watching her closely. “I could make you one for your room, if you want.”

Pearl can feel herself flush. “No, no. I never—I mean, I don’t really—no.” Bismuth continues to watch her, raising an eyebrow. “Really. It’s...it is a ‘pearl thing,’ as you put it, but not really _my_ thing. I wasn’t close to the others, on Homeworld, and after I left…” She tries to encompass _I was the only one_ and _I didn’t want to be a pearl_ and _Rose_ all in one vague shrug, because Bismuth was there and doesn’t need to hear Pearl ramble about it.

“So it’s a thing pearls do together. Nesting.”

“When they’re able. Yellow and Blue had a nest in the palace somewhere. I’m sure other pearls in service close to each other had nests too. Pearls—most pearls—crave physical contact. It’s meant to keep them attached to their owners.”

Bismuth makes a noise, half thoughtful, half distressed, and her thumb strokes soothingly up and down Pearl’s spine. Pearl is suddenly, humiliatingly aware of her arm still curled around Bismuth’s bicep, of the way she’s leaning into Bismuth’s palm on her back and the warm, solid heat of her side.

“I’d better head home and make sure Steven gets dinner,” she says, pulling away.

Bismuth lets her go without protest, but Pearl can feel her eyes follow her to the door. “Night, Renegade,” she calls as Pearl slips out. “Say hi to the meatball for me.”

***

She’s restless and the weather is clear, so she passes by the warp and heads home on foot, letting the ocean bubble over her feet and the sound of the waves fill her head. She passes the town and waves to Kiki jogging past her in the other direction; further up the beach she finds Angel and Biggs setting up some kind of net, and waves to them too. The Dondai isn’t there when she rounds the shoreline to the temple, so Steven’s not home, but she can make out two figures sitting under the umbrella on the porch; she picks out Garnet first, and when she gets closer, Rhodonite.

They’re laughing as Pearl jogs up the stairs, Rhodonite high and nervous on top of Garnet’s throaty chuckle. “Pearl!” Garnet greets as she hits the porch, “you can help with this lesson. Rhodonite needs some extra practice with receiving compliments.”

“Garnet,” Rhodonite whines softly, covering her face with two hands while the others flutter.

Garnet grins at her, and then back at Pearl, and, well. Pearl can never resist a teachable moment.

“An excellent lesson,” she agrees, slipping into teacher voice. “Rhodonite, I love your tulle, it really suits your shoulders.”

With effort the fusion lowers her hands and folds them all together in front of herself, her eyes sliding over to Pearl. She smiles, small and genuine. “Um...thank you. I was thinking about getting rid of it, next time I have the chance, but…” She touches the floaty edge of it with her fingers. “Ruby really likes it, so. My Ruby, I mean.”

“Mine likes it too,” Garnet adds with an encouraging smile. “It’s so delicate.”

Rhodonite’s upper eyes crinkle in a blushing smile, but her pink lower eyes slide back to Pearl. It’s a glance she finds startlingly easy to read, and she tugs at the hem of her jacket self-consciously. “Of course, if it feels more like _you_ to change it, then compliments don’t matter. We’d like you no matter what you look like.”

Rhodonite’s smile warms. “Thank you.”

There’s a moment where Garnet seems to look between them, though Pearl can’t see her eyes move, only feel the shift of her attention like a sizzle on her skin; then Pearl claps her hands together. “Well! I’m going to make some dinner for Steven and Amethyst. Would you two like to help?”

***

“So how did you learn how to cook?” Rhodonite asks as she and Garnet chop vegetables at the kitchen counter. “Captain Lars has been teaching me a little about baking, but it all seems really complicated.”

“Oh, maybe we should ask him to do a baking demonstration for the school,” Pearl muses, crushing garlic under her knife. “Greg taught me a bit when Steven was first coming to live with us, and I’ve picked up some from books. But now I’m taking a cooking class at the human community center out in Ocean Town, it’s been very enlightening! Last week we learned how to stir fry, so I thought I’d try it at home.” She lays strips of chicken in the sizzling pan on the stove and smiles. “My friend Brandish suggested it, when I told her about how Steven’s been skipping meals lately. She has three daughters, she said when they were teenagers having home-cooked meals together was the only time she saw them!”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Garnet says in the tone of voice that means she’s examining outcomes. “Next time you should try it with tofu.”

“Hmm, all right. I’ll add it to the shopping list.”

There’s a little stretch of comfortable silence, broken only by “is this small enough?” and “in the pan, please” and the sound of sizzling vegetables. Then Garnet leans back on her stool with a carefully casual air. “I heard the new residents list is interesting this week.”

“Ah...yes,” Pearl agrees, shooting Garnet a look. “I suppose we’ve got the complete set now.”

“Complete set?” Rhodonite asks, looking between them, and Pearl sighs.

“Diamonds’ pearls. The others just moved into building twelve together.”

Rhodonite’s hands clasp, and her other hands clap her cheeks as she smiles. “Oh! That’s good, right? That they’re away from the Palace and everything. I know it felt good for us to get away from our Morganite, even though we just went underground.”

“It is good,” Pearl admits, turning back to the pan on the stove. “I’m glad they’re experiencing a little independence. It’s just awkward. I was gone for so long, having a life here on Earth while they were still in service. I knew them, but...I’m a very different person now than I was. I’m a _person_ , at all.”

“Well, that’s even better,” Rhodonite replies. “You can teach them. That’s what the school’s for, right? And...well, pearls probably need more independence practice than most. _I’m_ still learning, and I’ve been me for thousands of years.”

Pearl turns around again, and finds Garnet grinning at her in that particular _Garnet_ way, and Rhodonite looking hesitantly pleased. “I...I suppose you’re right. I could teach them. I’ll have to talk to Steven about adding a course to the catalog, when he gets home.”

“Could...could I take it too?” Rhodonite says, gloved hands wringing together nervously; Pearl reaches out to cover them with one of her own.

“Of course.”

***

They schedule the Pearl Power class up against How To Decide Stuff For Yourself 101. Pearl argues that it serves the same purpose, but with a bit more structure than Amethyst’s free-spirited teaching style provides; Amethyst just shrugs, not insulted in the least. “You’d know best what they need, P.”

“Okay then!” Steven says, scribbling a note in his planner and marking it with a white tab. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow about enrollment. Unless you’d rather do that, Pearl?”

“Oh, no, no, I think it’s better if you do it,” she says, waving a hand.

Amethyst snorts and elbows her lightly. “You do have to talk to them to teach them, you know.”

“I’m well aware,” Pearl replies dryly. “But they’ve had more recent interaction with Steven. It’ll sound like a better idea coming from him.”

Steven smiles, a little awkwardly. “Okay. Well, we know at least Rhodonite is interested, but hopefully they’ll all want to participate.”

“What about Fluorite, doesn’t she have a pearl in there somewhere?” Amethyst asks, and Pearl shrugs a little.

“It’s hard to tell with all the color combinations, and it seems rude to ask…”

“It is rude to ask,” Garnet confirms, “but if it comes up in conversation I’ll let you know.”

Steven nods thoughtfully, clicking his pen a few times, and turns his attention back to Pearl. “Okay. Is there anything you think you’ll need, other than a space somewhere? A chalkboard maybe?”

Pearl pauses. She hadn’t really considered _how_ she might teach other pearls independence, only that she _could_. Obviously she can’t throw them into a millenia-long war. “Well...a board would be a good start. I think the rest will depend on their interests, but I probably have most things I could need up here.” She taps her gem. “And if we need to go shopping, that can be a lesson on its own.”

Steven grins. “This is gonna be great!”

“I hope so.”

***

By Monday Pearl has a small indoor classroom set up just off the main square, with comfortable chairs, a chalkboard, and some open space for projections and roleplay. She also has students; according to Steven, Yellow Pearl and Blue Pearl were eager to fully enroll, signing up for a range of classes together. Pink Pearl was more reluctant, but agreed to attend Pearl Power on a trial basis; Pearl makes a note to herself to be sure to treat her with particular encouragement and care.

They arrive early, all together, Yellow and Blue chatting as they come in and Pink following close behind with a wide-eyed look. “Make yourselves comfortable,” Pearl tells them with a smile. “We’re just waiting for one more.”

Yellow and Blue nod, their attention suddenly sharply on her; then Yellow takes Blue’s hand and tows her over to a little loveseat, where they settle close enough to touch, and their murmured conversation picks up again. Pink just nods, and seats herself primly in another chair, looking ready to leap up at any moment. It’s going to be a challenge, Pearl realizes, to meet them each where they are, when two are already so comfortable and one has put on a fake-pleasant service smile.

Then the door opens again, and a mauve-colored pearl in a dark purple bodysuit appears in the doorway, hair in a neat bob, the gem on her chest surrounded by a familiar tulle that flutters around her shoulders and frames her neck like a collar. Behind her, holding her hand, stands a round-eyed and belly-gemmed ruby Pearl doesn’t recognize. They pause, looking at each other and back to Pearl. “Garnet said we should try doing some things apart,” the ruby says uncertainly, and Pearl blinks and grins.

“Of course. I’m very pleased to meet you both. Come on in and make yourself comfortable, Pearl.”

They look back to each other. “I could stay too, if you—”

“I’ll be fine,” the pearl says, leaning down to kiss the ruby’s nose. “I’ll see you in an hour. Have fun watching the softball game.”

At last the ruby smiles; then she squeezes the pearl’s hand, waves to the rest of them, and slips out of the room.

“Welcome,” Pearl says, gesturing the mauve pearl toward an empty seat. “What would you like to be called?”

She blinks, considering, and slowly her hands wring together as she sits. “Oh...I’ve never needed a name before. Maybe...Rhode? Is that okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Pearl replies, then raises her voice and sweeps her eyes across their entire, quite small, class. “All right, everyone. This is Pearl Power, and we’re going to be learning about how to foster our own independence, take agency in difficult situations, and how to handle typism from other gems. I know you’ve all had at least some experience out of service in Era 3, so let’s start by sharing a little about our time as free gems.” She pauses, and is met with a moment of uncertain silence; not surprising. “I’ll get us started. I’ve been away from Homeworld for thousands of years, but since the start of Era 3 I’ve begun making more connections with humans and learning more about their culture. I’ve also taken on more small leadership roles in our gem community here; it took me quite a long time to learn to trust in my own capabilities, instead of always waiting for someone to tell me what to do. It’s been a difficult journey, but I’ve found it to be very rewarding.”

“But...you’re the Renegade,” says Rhode with surprise. “Garnet said that you were the one who inspired Pink Diamond to rebel in the first place. That you were Rose Quartz’s right hand.”

Pearl can feel all of their eyes on her. She smiles, wry and soft. “It’s easy to be the right hand. To be the sword, cutting where the wielder wills it. It’s much harder to question, and argue, and refuse. To have your own will, and always follow it. That’s what we’ll be learning here.”

“When we were running the Diamond Broadcasting Network, we had to give the Diamonds directions,” Yellow pipes up, with a smug little smile.

“It was hard,” Blue adds, and Yellow’s grin widens.

“But it was fun.”

Pearl feels herself smiling in response. “Excellent. Tell us more about that.”

***

When class is over, the Diamond pearls leave in a little cluster with a chorus of goodbyes and then, in the hall, a flurry of giggles. Pearl understands why when Ruby—Rhodonite’s Ruby—all but runs through the door. “How was class!” she shouts, less a question and more of a warning before she leaps into Rhode’s arms. Rhode laughs and kisses her face.

“It was wonderful. How was the game?”

“Remind me not to watch sports with Padparadscha anymore.”

“Oh, honey.” They giggle in harmony, faces pressed close together; a moment later they glow, sliding into one another with ease of practice, and Rhodonite turns to Pearl with a grin.

“Thanks for class today. I could tell the others were getting into it, too.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Pearl says, with a little relief. “See you on Wednesday?”

“One of us, at least,” Rhodonite says with a laugh, and then she’s through the door, and Pearl is alone.

She sinks down into one of the chairs, rubbing at her eyes. It _was_ a good class, and she hopes that will continue, but she hadn’t anticipated how _tiring_ teaching a subject this personal would be. She has a few hours until her weapons class in the Sky Arena, so she lets herself drift just a little, goes over the conversations of the past hour in her mind’s eye and commits them to memory. She’s not sure how long she’s been sitting there, eyes closed, when she hears the door open again.

“Hey Professor,” Bismuth calls, and Pearl can hear the smile in her voice. “Class is over.”

“So it is,” Pearl replies, opening her eyes and returning the smile. Then she gets to her feet, stretching up on tiptoes for a moment to wake herself up. “I was just thinking.”

“Well, I was watching for you, but I got tired of waiting.” Bismuth regards her with hands on her hips, still grinning. “I need your opinions again.”

“Oh, about the nest?”

“Yep, it’s just about done. You wanna test it out for me before I bring the other gals over to see it?”

“If you like,” Pearl agrees, sliding her arm through the crook of Bismuth’s elbow. She allows herself to be led across the square, past the warp pad where the softball game is still going strong, to the wide metal doors of the forge.

“I’m still working on the water mattress,” Bismuth says as she ushers Pearl inside, “but I put a regular one and some pillows and things in there for now, so they can try both.”

Since this forge isn’t as large as the old one, the nest takes up quite a large section of the room; it’s painted in deep neutral grays on the outside and shimmering, nacreous cream color on the inside, with clean white bedding that looks soft as clouds. It even has a hinged canopy, a matching oyster shape with a softly sheltering curve. It’s beautiful, and it pulls at Pearl so hard that she feels a tiny flash of panic. Her hand tightens around Bismuth’s arm, and then she forces it loose again.

“You’ve done a lovely job,” is what she says, and she means it. She feels Bismuth puff up a little beside her.

“Yeah? I hope they like it. Hop on in, if you want, tell me how it feels.”

“All right.” Carefully Pearl sits on the scalloped edge of the shell, testing her weight against it, and Bismuth chuckles.

“It’ll hold you, doll. You could dance on that edge, it won’t tip.”

With a little mischief creeping onto her face, Pearl sets her feet on the edge and stands, making a show of testing her footing. A moment, a breath—then a light _sissonne_ to quick _chaînés_ to a _pirouette_ , finishing with an _arabesque_ and a wink. Bismuth belly laughs; the nest doesn’t so much as wobble. There’s nothing left to do but bow, and then step down onto the temptingly soft bedding. As Pearl folds herself down among the pillows, she pulls in a breath—there’s a faint smell of the sea, even without the water mattress—and lets it out on a slow sigh. The expanse of it around her feels huge as she curls up in the center, large enough for at least four or five pearls, but the edges of the shell curve so gently inward and the pillows hem her in, and the canopy above shadows her like an umbrella. It feels... _safe_.

“Yeah?” Bismuth says, and Pearl realizes she must have said that aloud. “I’m glad.” Her face appears, smiling awfully tenderly, as she leans over the side of the nest to brush her hand over Pearl’s hair. The touch is so light, gentle, and without meaning to, Pearl closes her eyes.

***

She is...somewhere. She is floating. She _is_ , has consciousness, suddenly and without fanfare. With consciousness, with _self_ , comes an understanding of _others_ somewhere around her, somewhere outside of her. The vibration of voices, of movement, of briny water against her outermost layer. Then, with the distinction of self from other, comes _form_. Sensation, sound. Voices.

“I can’t believe it worked,” a voice breathes above her, like a sigh. “So organic.”

“Oh, she’s lovely,” another voice coos.

Then a third, sharper, “Goodness, that _nose_.”

“I think it’s quite distinctive,” says the second voice. “It complements those long limbs. And that dress! So pretty and delicate.”

“And customizable,” the first voice says. “Each one can be specially tailored. I programmed its form myself.”

“Did you?” the third voice says, surprised. “It’s so colorful.”

The first voice gets closer, crooning, and the water all around vibrates with it. “I am all the colors of the light, but no creature can shine quite as perfectly bright. Not even this one, my own special creation.”

“A perfectly darling little toy,” the second voice agrees. “I can’t wait to make one of my own.”

“What will you call it?” the third voice asks. The first voice hums, and then the water moves again, more, much more. Something is here with her, something large, something powerful; for the first time she understands _size_ ; for the first time, she understands _fear_. The Something touches her, strokes slowly along the length of her arm.

“A pearl.”

***

When she opens her eyes, she’s in the dark. There’s a pillow under her head, and a heavy blanket draped over her. As her eyes adjust, she sees a faint shimmer like the inside of a shell, and a sliver of light peeking in where two rippling edges meet from above and below. _The nest_ , she suddenly remembers. _Did I fall asleep?_

She uncurls, presses a hand up against the smooth lid enclosing her; it lifts easily as anything, on a hinge that makes no sound. “Bismuth?”

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty!” comes the answer, and Bismuth crosses the forge to lean against the edge of the shell. “I musta got something right, you went out like a light in there. Then you were dreaming,” she says, spreading her fingers from her own forehead— _oh, I was projecting_ —“so I closed the top to give you some privacy.”

“Thank you,” Pearl says, disoriented; she scrubs at her face the way she’s seen Greg do when he’s tired, rubs lightly at her gem. “How long was I…?”

“A good while. You’ve got about half an hour until weapons training. I was gonna wake you soon, thought I’d come along today. I made some new throwing knives.”

“For Goshenite?”

“Uh huh. Hey, Pearl, you okay? You look a little dreamy still.”

“Mmm. It’s...this,” she says, gesturing around herself. Then she reaches out a hand, and Bismuth takes it, tugging her further upright and balancing her as she unfolds herself back over the edge. “I don’t think I’m very good at sleeping. It just makes me more tired.”

Bismuth gets an arm around her, and it’s so easy to lean into her warmth. “Well, even you can’t be good at everything. Brains, brawn, beauty, but don’t ask her to your slumber party!”

“ _Bismuth_ ,” Pearl says, shoving her shoulder lightly into her side. “Let’s see those knives.”


	2. Chapter Two

After class on Wednesday, Blue catches Rhode’s hand as they all head for the door. “We have a nest in our apartment now,” Blue tells her in a pleased, mild tone. “Would you like to come over and try it? There’s plenty of room.”

Rhode’s face lights up, but she shakes her head. “Thank you, that’s very kind. But I have Ruby to nest with, and she’s still getting used to us being apart sometimes.”

“Of course,” Blue says with a little nod. “Well, you’re welcome anytime.” Then she turns to Pearl, assiduously erasing the chalkboard and _not_ watching them, and Yellow and Pink turn with her. “Um...how about you?”

“Oh, ah,” Pearl stutters, glancing over at them and then back to the board when Yellow’s challenging look gets too intense. “Thank you, but no.”

“All right,” murmurs Blue; the door creaks open, and their pattering footfalls file out. 

As the door swings shut behind them, Pearl hears Yellow, nasal and sharp. “I told you she wouldn’t want to.”

“I thought maybe, without her Diamond—”

They’re gone down the hall before she can hear any more, and she sighs, wiping the last specks of chalk from the board and needlessly straightening her jacket. 

***

They don’t ask Rhode again; her invitation was open. But after every class, they ask Pearl. Or rather, Blue asks Pearl, while Yellow smiles like she’s daring Pearl to say yes, and Pink studies her with hands carefully folded. It gets a little less awkward, over time; at worst like a game they’re all continuing to play, at best just a pleasantry, routine small talk. 

Then Pink Pearl, who still rarely speaks, who takes in everything with a placid expression and never gives her thoughts away, asks for help to fix her damaged eye. They journey to the Reef; they argue; they fuse. And Pink Pearl, quiet, unreadable, becomes Volleyball. She bursts into bloom, into layers of dimension, like a flower opening in Pearl’s chest. As easily as breathing, they understand one another; as sweetly as thrumming ukulele strings, Pearl falls in love.

She cancels her classes, takes a week of vacation during which Volley doesn’t leave her side, time to explore each other, explore the Earth, both fused and apart. It’s blissful, dreamlike, such a sudden departure from Pearl’s normal life that it feels unreal. 

When she returns to the school, Volley joins her on the sidelines, attentive, distracting. Everything is suddenly different; Volley hasn’t even been back to the apartment she shares with Yellow and Blue, though Pearl is sure her whereabouts have made it through the gem grapevine by now. 

Then it’s been a week back into teaching classes and she still hasn’t resumed Pearl Power yet. She imagines standing in front of the other pearls, trying to bridge the gap between Eras, now knowing what every inch of Volley’s body feels like against hers. Knowing how soothing their sameness is, limbs and hands and noses touching, matching, skin to skin and easing the longing that’s always clawing at her insides.

It’s so _good_ to have that whenever she wants it, is the thing. It’s been so long since she had a lover who understood what she was, what she needed. How can she help her students break away from the cruel intentionalities of their design, when she’s finding it harder and harder to resist it in herself? It’s love that makes her flush when Volley smiles, that makes her giddy every moment they’re together. But the way she wants to touch her, all the time—how much of that is Pearl, a free gem, and how much of it is programming written so deep in her she’ll never excise it?

***

Sunday afternoon finds Pearl stretched out on the couch, her head in Volley’s lap, her fingers and feet idly twitching in agitation. She busied herself making waffles this morning, and then washing the dishes Steven and Amethyst left behind, and then scrubbing the countertops and the floor for good measure. Unfortunately Steven did his own laundry, even folded it himself and told Pearl in no uncertain terms that she did _not_ need to re-fold it more neatly. Volley’s hand stroking her hair and occasionally her gem is soothing, but then again it’s all tied up in what’s making her restless in the first place; she’s still a wreck, sometimes, and it’s starting to show.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Volley says softly, cutting through the background noise of the baking show on the tv. 

Pearl tries to force her hands to relax, her cheek pressed to Volley’s thighs. On the screen, one of the contestants is carefully laying edible gold leaf down the side of a three-tiered cake. One wrong move, and the delicate leaf will tear apart. “Oh...nothing that important.”

Volley’s fingers curl lightly against her scalp. “Is that a lie?”

“It’s…” Pearl shifts, looks up to meet Volley’s eye. “I’m sorry. I don’t really _know_ what I’m thinking about.” Volley just watches her with a quiet, open expression, and Pearl takes a fortifying breath. “Is this...going too fast for you?”

“No,” she replies, immediate and gentle. Her hands pause in their slow, idle touches. “Is it too fast for you?”

“Maybe,” Pearl admits in a near-whisper.

“Pearl.” There’s the slightest waver in her voice, and it hurts like a sword through the chest. “Have I been...do you need some space?”

 _Yes_ , Pearl thinks, and then _no!_ She rolls to press her face into Volley’s stomach, winds her arms around her waist. “I fought so hard to not need this,” she says against Volley’s skin, “to not be so much of a _pearl_.” 

_But I love you_ , she says with the curve of her body, _but I want you_ , with the brush of her mouth against Volley’s gem.

Volley’s hands curl over Pearl’s hip and around the back of her neck. “Let’s go back to pearl class tomorrow,” she says, leaning down, her breath dusting Pearl’s cheek.

“Pearl _Power_ class.” Volley’s gem is softly radiating heat; Pearl presses her mouth and her words against it. “I suppose I can’t avoid it forever.”

“I’ll remind you later to put it back on the schedule,” Volley agrees, breathless, and she squirms in place as Pearl gives in and licks a stripe along the sensitive seam where gem meets form.

***

Pearl makes sure they arrive early, so she’s already writing “Making Independent Choices” on the board when the rest of the class files in. Volley has been curled up in the center of the couch where Blue and Yellow usually sit, her warm gaze following Pearl around the room, but when the door opens she leaps to her feet. 

“Pink!” exclaim Yellow and Blue together, and they catch her up in a tight embrace.

“Steven gave me a _nickname_ ,” she tells them, her smile bright as the sun. “I’m Volleyball now.”

“ _Volleyball?_ ” Yellow sneers; Blue giggles.

“He’s so silly.”

“That’s what I said! But I like it.” She pulls them over to the couch by their hands, and when Rhode smiles with nervous fondness and makes for her usual chair, Volley leaps over to tug her onto the couch as well. “Let’s all sit together today!” she says, and her eye finds Pearl’s with a pointed smile.

Pearl’s mouth twists, trying not to smile back; instead she looks at Rhode, eyebrow raised in a question.

Rhode blushes purple and laughs. “Okay. Let’s all sit together.”

“All right,” Pearl says in her teacher voice. “Let’s get started. It’s been a while, so why don’t you each tell me something you’ve decided for yourself since last class, and how you followed through.”

“I decided to ask for help fixing my eye,” Volley says immediately, touching the fractured side of her face with her fingertips.

“It’s always good to ask for help,” Pearl says, softening in spite of herself. “We all deserve to be happy and healthy, and to be cared for by the people around us when we need it. Do you want to tell the class the actions you took based on that decision?”

Volley nods, her eye fixed on Pearl, though every other eye in the room is pointed at her. “I asked Steven for help. His magic didn’t work, so we visited the Reef.”

There’s a tangible reaction to that, a tiny shockwave of longing and revulsion that flows through the others and draws them closer. “But...that didn’t work either?” Blue asks, cautiously.

With a little smile, Volley shakes her head. “Shell couldn’t fix my face. But something very good came out of it anyway.” Though she’s answering Blue’s question, she’s still looking directly at Pearl. “I learned how to fix things on the inside instead.”

“A valuable lesson,” Pearl praises, gently. There’s a moment of silent tension, like a bubble expanding, until Yellow scoffs.

“Was two weeks attatched to her hip not enough?” she says, nose in the air, but there’s a little sparkle in her eye that softens it to a tease; Volley flushes, finally breaking eye contact with Pearl, and leans over to flick Yellow on the shoulder. 

***

After class, Rhode leaves with a wave as usual to re-fuse with her Ruby, while Volley, Yellow, and Blue approach Pearl in a little gaggle. Then Volley reaches out to take her hand, nestles into Pearl’s side as though an hour without touching her was too long to go, and Yellow and Blue share a long-suffering sort of look.

“I’m going back to the dorm for a little while,” Volley says, tucking her head against Pearl’s shoulder.

“Okay,” Pearl says, squeezing her hand. “I’ll be back at the beach house after weapons class, if you want to come over later.”

“Oh, I’m definitely coming to watch weapons class.” Pearl can feel Volley’s cheek rising in a smile. “But I was thinking you could come with me. Us. Back to the dorm, for a bit.”

Pearl feels herself flush immediately, and Yellow tuts and rolls her eyes. “Just to _nest_ ,” she clarifies. “Not every pearl is in love with the Renegade, you know.”

“I didn’t think _any_ pearls were in love with the Renegade,” Pearl replies with a startled laugh. 

Volley full-body nudges her. “Pearl!”

“What? You didn’t even know me then.”

“I know you now. And I’d like it, _very much_ , if you would come and nest with me.”

“I…” Pearl takes a breath, tucks a tiny wisp of hair back behind Volley’s ear in order to not meet anyone’s eyes for a moment; when she looks up again, Yellow and Blue are regarding her expectantly. “I don’t want to intrude. It’s not my place, I don’t...I left all that behind a long time ago.”

“We know, you’re so _independent_ ,” Yellow drawls, and Blue elbows her hard.

“Stop it.” Somehow, even with her face mostly covered by her hair, she turns an earnest look on Pearl. “We missed you. When you left. You always would have been welcome, and you’re welcome now.” 

Pearl swallows _hard_ against the swell of emotion that provokes, can feel her mouth wobble. “I suppose...if it’s all right with you two, and it makes Volley happy.”

Volley hums against her skin, a pleased affirmation and a soft scold at once, and lifts her head to kiss Pearl’s cheek.

They tow her, Volley by her hand, Yellow and Blue with satisfied smiles, out of the classroom and across the square to their dorm. Bismuth is leaning in the forge doorway like she’s been watching for them, and her face brightens when she spots them. The others wave and call out greetings—”Hello Bis!” “Afternoon Bis!”—and Bismuth waves back with a huge grin.

“Have fun ladies!” Then she catches Pearl’s eyes to give her a thumbs up and a _wink_ that is most certainly going to fuel the Little Homeworld rumor mill; Pearl can only hide her flushed face in her hand and groan as Volley laughs and shepherds her along.

All of the dorm buildings are different, a mishmash of colors and shapes that are as far from Homeworld barracks as Bismuth could make them; building twelve is tall and dotted with generous windows, with one apartment to each floor. Pearl allows herself to be coaxed up the stairs, trying to push down the fizz of nerves in her chest. It doesn’t work. 

Then she’s there, standing just inside the doorway of a neat but cluttered living space. The bones of a basic Little Homeworld apartment are there, couch, television, kitchenette, a hallway leading to small bedrooms. On top of this are layered stacks of drying canvases, hastily folded piles of clothes she’s never seen any of them wearing out, a cooling rack of cookies, a collection of shells from the beach. She takes all of this in, trying to see this pleasant evidence of her students experiencing their new freedom to the fullest, ignoring the dominant, almost magnetic presence of the nest taking up the far corner for as long as she can. 

“It’s no interdimensional room full of fountains and swords,” Volley murmurs, shifting deliberately into Pearl’s line of sight, “but it’s sweet, right?”

“Very charming,” Pearl says, forcing a smile onto her face. 

“Would you like a cookie?” Blue says, gesturing to where Yellow has already taken a delicate bite of one.

“She doesn’t like to eat,” Volley answers for her, takes her other hand, draws her over to the nest with a gentle expression. “I haven’t been back in two weeks, come snuggle with me.”

“You haven’t been back because you were snuggling with _her_ for two weeks,” Yellow says, but there’s no jealousy in it; she licks some cookie crumbs off her fingers, and leaps lightly into the nest, curling her legs under her as the water mattress wobbles beneath the froth of blankets and pillows. Blue follows her, settling on the other side to distribute the weight; between them is an empty space, just big enough for Volley and Pearl to slot in very close to each other.

Volley smiles, and it’s like the sun comes out from behind a cloud. “Come on,” she coaxes, stepping backward over the edge of the shell, perfectly balanced even as the mattress billows again.

Pearl huffs out a breath through her nose. “You don’t have to talk to me like a child.” 

“What’s a child?” 

“Like a confused ruby, then,” Pearl amends, a little sharp to cover the way her insides are squirming. She feels like she’s cracked, like she’s glitching; she feels strangely like the layers of Pearls inside her are crowding up against the inside of her gem to watch. It’s foolish, and she ignores it. She steps up onto the edge of the shell. 

It holds without moving, just as it did at the forge; Volley lets go of her hands and flops backwards, resting her head on Yellow’s folded arm and patting the space between herself and Blue. Primly, Pearl steps down, folds herself into Volley’s arms. It’s comfortable. Of course it’s comfortable, the gentle motion of the water mattress is as soothing as she thought it would be, the bedding is soft, Volley is curled all along her front and Blue is a quiet presence at her back.

She can’t relax. Volley strokes her side lightly, nuzzles their noses together, and Pearl can barely move. She suddenly feels like if she opens her mouth, she’s not sure what will come out. 

Tenderly, Volley kisses her. “Pearl. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, but...you’re safe here, okay? It’s just us. We see you.”

“What?” Pearl chokes out; Yellow’s hand slides across Volley’s body to rest on Pearl’s arm, and Blue’s gem is radiating warmth between her shoulder blades. 

“We _see_ you,” Volley murmurs, and presses a kiss to her gem.

She doesn’t realize she’s going to cry until she already is, a choked sob pushing up out of her throat before she can clamp her lips around it. Her hands fly to her mouth and her eyes squeeze shut, but she’s shaking with it now. Arms come around her and hands stroke her hair; there’s a nose pressed to the back of her neck and a soft cooing against her shoulder. Volley’s face nestles up against hers, kissing her fingers. “It’s okay. You can cry, it’s okay.” Curling up tighter, Pearl shakes her head as soft kisses track the tears that squeeze out from under her eyelids. “You cry all the time. What’s different now, hmm?”

“I ca—” she starts, but it’s a mistake to open her mouth. She sobs again, and then— _humiliatingly_ — she can’t stop; cradled and warm, she gives up the fight. Volley’s right. She’s cried at least three times since they fused two weeks ago, there’s no point in hiding it now. Not when the soft press of other pearls around her dredges up something so _old_ , like a half-remembered dream. 

“Welcome back,” Blue whispers into her hair, and something in her chest shakes loose.

***

The _Renegade_ , they call her. It’s a blessing and a curse. It feels like someone else; a part she’s playing, as much as Rose Quartz is. Except Rose is _more_ herself, and Pearl should be too, should be _more_ for her—but she doesn’t feel it. Oh, she trains until she’s ready to drop, she’s Rose’s right hand and enforcer, she teaches bigger, stronger, rowdier rebel gems why they should respect her. She proves over and over again that she’s more than she was made to be, and soon she has everyone else convinced of it too. 

But she’s still just a pearl. 

Swords in her hands can’t change the way she thrills inside when Bismuth wraps an arm around her, when Biggs tells her she looks beautiful, when Garnet catches her dancing and sits quietly to watch. All the battles, all the training, a thousand years of war can’t put a dent in the depth of satisfaction she feels every time Rose smiles, the devotion that threatens to send her to her knees at Rose’s touch. Everything she does, she does for her—her lover, her master, her Diamond, she wants it to make a difference but it’s really all the same. Pearl is _hers_ , and nobody, not even _Rose_ , can know how deep it goes. 

So she plays the part. She lives inside the Renegade skin, lives so fully and fiercely there that she sometimes forgets it isn’t her. 

Pink Diamond and her pearl are back on Homeworld, for a face-to-face meeting with Blue and Yellow in the faint hope that begging, on her knees if she must, will convince them to let Pink spare the Earth.

Pearl is waiting just outside the chamber with Yellow and Blue’s pearls, listening. She can hear her Diamond pleading, can hear Rose’s passion underneath it; she can hear Blue scolding her in response. These used to be teachable moments, to the Diamonds—opportunities to steer Pink onto the path they wanted for her—but it’s gone on too long. They are losing patience, and the rebellion is running out of time.

Fury rises up in Pearl as the muffled scolding goes on, and she has to disengage or risk giving herself away. It’s easy, frighteningly easy, to clear all thoughts from her mind but her perfect posture, the frilly form she has to stay shapeshifted into, the empty politeness of her expression. It’s almost soothing, like stepping into a warm bath. Too long and it’ll go cold on her, but for the moment her shoulders minutely relax.

Then Yellow Pearl shifts her weight, just barely, but it’s like a shout in a quiet room. “They’re never going to let that planet go,” she murmurs. “My Diamond will not accept failure, and the rebellion can’t win. Pink Diamond has to set an example.”

“They’re angry,” Blue Pearl agrees. “Be very careful.”

Pearl thinks of the tower Rose said they used to lock her in. Of White Diamond’s desaturated puppet pearl with the cracked face, who used to be Pink’s, used to be whole. Of the Crystal Gems waiting for them back on Earth, fighting and shattering under Rose’s banner, for Rose’s cause. 

“My Diamond loves her colony very much,” is all Pearl can say.

When the meeting is over and Pink is dismissed, they warp back as close as they dare to the Crystal Gems’ camp on Earth. In the bright, cool space of the warp stream, they change; Pearl releases her disguise, shifting back to her latest, more battle-friendly form and shaking her limbs out of the delicate postures she’s been holding. Pink shifts into Rose, and catches Pearl up in her arms.

“Pearl,” she says. “I have a new plan. I need you to hear me out, because you’re not going to like it.”

“All right,” Pearl says, wary, resting her hands on Rose’s arms.

“I’m through pleading with them. We have to take drastic action.”

Worry starts to coil around Pearl’s insides. “How drastic?”

Rose’s smile is pained and hard. “I need you to shatter me.”

***

She wakes to a featherlight touch on her gem—Volley’s hand, stroking the side of her face. 

“Is that why you don’t sleep?”

“What?” Pearl asks, blinking. Her eyelids feel like molasses. Beside her, Volley lifts a hand into the air and gestures above them, where the top of the nest has been pulled partway down.

“You were projecting your dream.”

“Oh,” she says, her own hand lifting to her gem in reaction. “I...partly. I don’t really find it restful.”

Volley curls back into Pearl’s side. “You’re not all that good at letting your guard down, are you?” she says, but it’s gentle, fond. 

“The Earth Rebellion was a dangerous time,” Blue offers from Pearl’s other side. “We were so worried for you.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Yellow adds, her arm draped across Volley’s waist and her hand tucked lightly against Pearl’s side. 

Blue sighs. “She was very angry, though.”

“You never even bothered to disguise your gem, all that time, and _still_ no one recognized you but us! I always knew pearls were beneath notice, but it didn’t start to eat at me until then.”

Pearl lifts her head a little, looking between Yellow and Blue in surprise. “You knew it was me?”

“Of course we did!” 

“It was _obvious_.”

“We didn’t know about Pink Diamond,” Blue admits, “but how could you think we wouldn’t know _you_?”

“You never turned me in,” Pearl says, baffled now, and they’re all staring at her. “I just assumed…”

“ _Pearl,_ ” Yellow says, sounding almost hurt; there’s a rustle of bedding as all three of them cuddle closer by some silent agreement.

Blue tilts her shoulders to tip her gem upward; reaching for Pearl’s hand, she projects an image. A memory, a scene Pearl has never viewed from this angle before. It’s the Sky Arena, long ago, whole and filled with Gems. And there, at the edge, perched with rapiers in hand, she sees...herself. The Terrifying Renegade Pearl, and Rose Quartz looming large at her back. A familiar latticework wall slides between the viewer and the scene—a palanquin, Blue Diamond’s Palanquin—and through the spaces, as the Palanquin jerkily carries its occupants to safety, she watches herself. She poofs two guards, then two more, then raises her sword against a tiny figure— _Sapphire_?—before the view is blocked and the recording ends.

“I remember that day,” she says softly, staring at the bland inside of the nest’s upper shell, letting Blue lace their fingers together and Volley grasp her other hand. 

“I showed it to every pearl I could,” Blue murmurs. “I wanted them all to know what you’d done. I didn’t understand why. I didn’t understand that I could be more, I thought there was something wrong with you. That you’d cracked, or gone off-color. But you were still one of us. _Hundreds_ of pearls knew who you were.”

Pearl’s eyes fill and she squeezes them shut. “I thought I was done crying,” she says with a wet, wobbly laugh. “How am I supposed to teach weapons class like this?”

“You’re a pearl,” Volley says, a little awe in her voice. “You can do anything.”


	3. Chapter Three

After Human Tech the next day, Pearl swings by the forge. Bismuth is hard at work at the anvil, as always, hunched over what looks to be the pommel of a sword with her pointer finger shapeshifted into a delicate graver. “Knock knock!”

Bismuth glances up, then grins and straightens. “Well, well, don’t you look happy today. Some little birdies told me the nest worked out just great with four pearls in it.”

With a hum of agreement, Pearl ambles in and leans her elbows on the anvil. “You really did beautiful work.”

“If it makes you smile like that more often, I’ll consider it a job well done,” Bismuth replies, setting her work aside. “Tell me _all_ about it.”

Feeling herself flush, Pearl tuts at her. “You make it sound lascivious. We mostly napped.”

“Mostly?”

“We talked, as well. About the war.”

Bismuth’s brows turn down a little. “Now, that sounds like kind of a downer.”

“In some ways, but…” Pearl sighs, rubbing idly at a mark on the anvil’s surface with her thumb. “I feel...a little lighter.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell me the details if you don’t want,” Bismuth says, patting Pearl’s fidgety hands with her own large one, “but it sounds like you got some things off your chest. That’s got to be good, huh?”

Pearl smiles, nods. “Yes. I think...I spent so long feeling ashamed of what I am. Pretending I could be something else. I think even after all this time, I’m still learning how to be free. To just be myself.”

Bismuth is watching her now with a thoughtful expression. “The rest of us knuckleheads couldn’t’ve helped, always going on about how you weren’t anything like any pearl we’d ever seen. Of course you weren’t. We’d never seen a pearl who wasn’t being treated like a sentient piece of furniture.”

“Oh, Bismuth, that’s not what I mean,” Pearl says in a rush, reaching across the anvil to hold her hands. “It’s true, it was exhausting sometimes, with new recruits. But...you never looked at me like that. Like something you could own. You don’t know how much that helped, still helps. I always feel like it’s not shameful to be myself with you.”

The smile she gives at that is suspiciously wobbly. “The others are gonna have it a little easier, huh? They won’t have to fight as hard, and they have you to show them all the shortcuts.”

“Oh, they’re making so much progress already! And honestly, they’re teaching _me_ things.”

“Now who’s making it sound lascivious?”

Pearl laughs. “Bismuth. It’s _really_ not like that with Yellow and Blue, I need to nip that rumor in the bud.”

“Ah, but you and Volleyball, huh?” Bismuth waggles her eyebrows. “Going well?”

“Very well, I think,” Pearl says, cheeks burning. “She went back to her apartment last night, but we’re meeting up in a little while to go to Spacetries. She wants to try cake, and I want to ask Lars about doing some baking demos for the school.”

“Pearl.” Bismuth pins her with a serious look. “You’re not gonna do work on a _date_.”

“Volleyball doesn’t mind. She’s been tagging along to all my classes.”

“That’s different from a date.”

“She doesn’t even know what dating _is_!” Pearl protests, exasperated, and Bismuth raises an eyebrow.

“And you _do_ , Miss I-like-humans-now. If one of those _many_ numbers in your phone took you out for lunch, you wouldn’t want her doing work at the same time.”

“That depends on the work,” Pearl muses. “Competence is very attractive.” 

“Oh, so _that’s_ why you’re always coming by here to pester me.” With a cocky grin, Bismuth plants her hands on her hips and puffs out her chest. “I’m very competent.”

 _And very attractive,_ it’s tempting to answer. It’s the truth, and six thousand years ago, when everyone knew Pearl only had eyes for Rose, she might have said it. Now, though...she’s finding her footing in so many other ways, but here she’s not sure where she stands. “You look like a propaganda poster,” she says instead.

Bismuth flexes a bicep. “Sharp facets are our assets! Little Homeschool wants YOU!” she shouts, and grins at Pearl’s burst of laughter.

“Oh, Bismuth! My human friends would just love you. You ought to take a break once in a while and come out with me. It’s one thing Rose really was right about, humans are very interesting.”

For some reason Bismuth blushes and chuckles. “I dunno. I mean, I can see you’re thriving, but I’m not sure I’m the type.”

“Now, that’s not true. You’re one of the most outgoing Gems I know. And you could just make friends, but if you _want_ to get out there a little...I’m sure you’d have some takers.” Bismuth’s flush deepens at that; encouraged, Pearl leans in, takes a chance. “You _are_ very attractive, you know.”

Bismuth’s eyes widen just a fraction, and her mouth drops open like she’s searching for something to say and coming up blank. Then out of nowhere, slender arms are thrown around Pearl’s neck. 

“There you are!” Volley greets, tucking her chin over Pearl’s shoulder. “I’m hungry! Hi Bis!”

“Volleyball,” Pearl greets, warm, and turns a little to pull her close. Bismuth’s mouth snaps shut, then softens into a smile.

“I know we were going to meet by the warp pad, but I missed you. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”

“We were just talking about what Pearl finds attractive,” Bismuth tells her with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Volley giggles. “Well, _I_ heard the Renegade likes big, strong gems.” Then suddenly Pearl’s feet are leaving the ground and she’s in Volley’s arms, bridal-style. Bismuth slaps the anvil and absolutely _guffaws_ , and Pearl can only smile and give in.

“Mm, my big strong hero,” she coos, and kisses Volley softly. “Let’s go get you some cake.”

***

“Now, you may know that human schools often give tests at the end of the semester, to show what the students have learned. We’re not going to do that.” Her assembled students all brighten just a fraction, and Pearl smiles. “It’s abundantly clear that we’ve all made great strides toward our own independence—yes, myself included—and in lieu of an exam I thought we might put our new skills to use with a little roleplay. Our special guest here,” Pearl continues with a pat to Bismuth’s arm, “will be helping us out so we have even pairs. We’ll come up with some scenarios, and try to act them out, as much as you’re comfortable with. All right?”

“What kind of scenarios?” Rhode asks, looking a little trepidatious; Pearl gives what she hopes is an encouraging smile.

“You tell me. Is there something you’ve experienced, or something you worry about, that you’d like to see explored?”

“How about...your former owner sends you a message, asking you to put in a good word for her with Steven. She used to be influential in Pink Diamond’s court, and she still doesn’t understand that he’s not Pink Diamond.” She looks down at her hands. “Or that you don’t want to think about her, ever again.”

“That is a tricky situation,” Pearl agrees. “Who’d like to play that out for us?”

“I will,” says Blue, hopping to her feet. “I’ll be the pearl.”

“I’ll be the owner,” Yellow offers immediately, standing as well. Shooting a glance over to Rhode, she raises a brow. “What shall we call her?”

“Morganite,” Rhode says, with a tiny, vindictive sort of smile. “Might as well go all in.”

Yellow grins, equally vindictive, then turns to Blue and mimes typing in the air. “Ahem. Dear Pearl; I hope this message finds you well. I was delighted to hear that you and Ruby are among the gems who have journeyed to Earth, and that you are still... _together_. I’m afraid I overreacted all those years ago; you have no idea how much I missed your assistance after you left, things fell rather into disarray!” 

She laughs behind her hand, fake as anything, and Pearl makes a mental note to suggest she look into the Beach City amateur theater company. “I regretted my actions almost immediately and tried to find you, but you’d already disappeared! But I suppose if we hadn’t had that little spat, you’d never have wound up on Earth or had the honor of meeting dear Steven. 

“And that’s what I wanted to write you about, Pearl—I know she doesn’t have a formal Court anymore, but I wonder if you could arrange a reintroduction for me with Steven. I was once a most loyal and senior gem under her radiant guidance, and I would very much like to resume that relationship.” 

At the edge of this scene, Rhode covers her face with her hands, shaking her head, but Pearl can see she’s smiling. “I look forward to your swift reply,” Yellow finishes, “Best wishes; Morganite.”

Blue straightens her shoulders and runs her hands over her skirt, grins at Yellow, and mimes typing back. “Dear Morganite; First, Steven’s pronouns are he/him. Second, he isn’t Pink Diamond, and though he’s kind and would give you a fair chance, I refuse to inflict you on him. Third, I’ll remind you that I have full recollection of all classified information I encountered while in your service. If you ever contact me, Ruby, or Rhodonite again, I will ruin you. I hope you crack; Rhode.”

Rhode dissolves into giggles, her eyes gently leaking tears. “Perfect! I’m going to send her exactly that. Ruby will love it.”

***

“Oh, Pearl,” Volley says to Rhode in her best Blue Diamond voice. “I feel terrible for making you cry for six thousand years, but I’ve been experimenting with a new power! Come here and float on one of these clouds, they’ll make you instantly happy!”

Rhode glances over at Blue, who is gripping Yellow’s knee, then brushes her own hair deliberately out of her face to look directly at Volley. “No thank you. I’m very happy without you.”

***

Volley’s expression turns greedy, covetous. There’s an edge behind it as she lays her hand on Bismuth’s arm. “You’re very pretty; it’s a shame about your eye. What happened?”

Bismuth goes cold and fierce in response, straightening her shoulders and looking down her nose. “That’s none of your beeswax. And if you don’t take your hand off me, you’re going to be very, _very_ sorry.”

Breaking character, Volley laughs. “I don’t know if I can say it like you can. But I want to.”

“Try it,” Bismuth says with a small smile, the coldness falling away but the fierceness still behind her eyes. “I think you can do it. Lay into me, girl.”

Volley screws up her mouth and puffs out her chest, tipping her face to glare up in full force. “My eye, huh?” she says. “You could have a crack just like it, if you don’t get your hand off me.”

Bismuth grins and raises her hands in surrender. “Yes _ma’am!_ ”

***

“Oh Yellow, would you like to join our soccer game? We need one more player!” Pearl says, pulling a soccer ball from her gem for a prop. 

“Soccer?” Rhode replies through her nose, skeptical, a Yellow impression so accurate that the rest of the class softly giggle. “I don’t know how to play that.”

“That’s okay, I can teach you! The aim is to get this ball into the other team’s goal, but you can’t touch it with your hands, you run and kick it with your feet.”

Rhode makes an uncertain, sour face. “I don’t know if I would be any good at that.” Pearl’s smile widens in response.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s just for fun.”

“Fun?” Rhode repeats. “Well...I like fun. All right, I’ll play.”

“That does sound like fun,” murmurs Yellow, leaning over to Blue.

***

“Excuse me Pearl,” Blue says to Yellow, reaching out to her, “you seem a little stressed. Would you like to come over and nest for a while?”

Yellow sends Pearl an unnecessarily pointed look, then smiles and takes the offered hand. “I would, thank you very much.”

***

“Well, everyone,” Pearl says, clapping her hands together, “Our time’s almost up, so we’ll end there. I hope you’ve all gotten as much out of this class as I have.” She swallows, she hopes inconspicuously, around the little lump in her throat. “it’s been a great pleasure and privilege to have you here.”

“We loved it too, Pearl,” Volley says with an indulgent smile, and pulls her close to kiss her cheek. “You’re a great teacher.”

“Hear, hear!” Bismuth shouts with a fist in the air, and Pearl can’t help but laugh.

“Thank you. And a special congratulations to Rhode, and Rhodonite by proxy, on her graduation tomorrow!”

A chorus of congratulations follow, and a little flurry of hugs, and Pearl feels quite suddenly at a loss. They are the only pearls in Little Homeworld; unless more arrive, she won’t be teaching this class again. 

“Let’s make a commercial,” Blue says quietly, appearing at her side as if reading her mind. “Just for pearls. To show them it’s safe here.” 

“Oh...that’s a wonderful idea. I’ll ask Greg if I can borrow his video camera.”

Amid the chatter, Rhode’s Ruby appears in the doorway with a grin. “Hey hon, you ready? We gotta go pick up our graduation cap at the office.”

“Coming, sweetheart!”

“Wait, wait, before we all go,” Bismuth says, holding up her hands, “answer me one last question.”

Pearl raises an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Bismuth grins and spreads her arms in invitation. “Who do y’all belong to?”

“NOBODY!” Pearl’s students shout, bright and victorious, and all leap into Bismuth’s hold as if the floor is made of lava. Absolutely encrusted in giggling pearls, Bismuth glances over their heads at Pearl and grins. 

_See?_ She mouths. _Pearls love me!_

***

It’s the middle of the night, but that hardly matters for two gems who don’t keep a human sleep schedule. Even so, Little Homeworld is quiet and still as they stroll, the bustle of the day settled down into something more sedate. Volley holds Pearl’s hand, swinging their arms a little between them as they walk; now and then, her eye flits over to glance at Pearl and she smiles.

“Are you happy here? On Earth?” she asks at last, as they cross the little grove where the chimes hung on the branches gently swing. 

“Yes,” Pearl answers immediately. “Yes, very much. I wasn’t always sure, even when I was fighting a war for it, but...in the end, Earth set me free.” She glances over at Volley, who’s smiling, looking down at the ground and kicking little stones out ahead of them as they walk. “What about you?”

“I’m so glad I came here. I’m not sure if it’s really home, or...if home is you, and Yellow and Blue, people who love me.” She flushes, sweetly, and Pearl lifts their joined hands to kiss her knuckles. 

“Your family.”

“Mmm. But the Earth has been really good for me, and I want...I want all of it. Sometimes I feel so _greedy_ , I want to fit the whole planet into my gem.” She looks over at Pearl, her pale eye sparkling. “I lost so much time. I want to fill up the rest of it with as much life as I can.”

“I think that’s what freedom is all about,” Pearl agrees. “Crafting the life you want, pursuing it. Rose... _Pink_...she was everything, for so long. I don’t think I would change the direction my existence has taken, but…” She gestures in the air with one hand, the vague, tall shape of Rose Quartz. “She was trying to show me all the wonders of Earth, of love. And I _tried_ , but...she wanted me to change, and grow, and be free. I thought that meant I should stop being _me._ I should be courageous and strong and independent, all the things I was never made for.”

“You _are_ those things,” Volley says, squeezing her hand. “But I’m glad you’re still a pearl, too.”

“I feel...more myself than I ever have. I’m learning to let go of all the ideas I had about who I should be, and not be _fighting_ so hard anymore.” Her free hand floats up to touch her chest, a gesture she’s never really been able to control. She doesn’t have a heart, there’s nothing vital there; it’s a purely human tic. It used to make Rose laugh. “Sometimes I wish she could have seen me like this.”

Tugging her closer, Volley wraps an arm around her waist. “I bet she’d think you’re doing pretty great. Raising Steven, liberating pearls, hanging out with humans!”

“Hah!” She laughs, tipping her face close so their noses brush. “Yes, she would have loved that. You know, I’m taking Steven and Connie roller skating with some of my human friends tomorrow. You could come along, if you like.”

“What’s roller skating?”

“Oh, it’s when humans wear these shoes with wheels on the bottom, and all roll around in circles together listening to music! Khadijah says it’s a lot of fun.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” Volley says with a little laugh. “I’m still building up a tolerance for crowds of humans. But you should ask Bismuth.”

Pearl glances at her, pleased. “You think so? I’ve been trying to get her to come out with me, she’s so good at meeting new people.”

“And I think she’d love to spend some time with you,” Volley adds with a little smile, and turns her head to kiss Pearl’s cheek. “I have been hogging you a _little_.”

Pearl stops walking, lifts a hand to Volley’s face to keep her there and kisses her properly, slow and sweet as a promise. “I can’t say I’ve minded, and there’s plenty to go around.”

With a giggle caught between their mouths, Volley presses close. “Is that so? Come nest for a little while, then? Blue and Yellow aren’t home, they said something about a sleepover with the Nephrites.” 

Volley’s gem is pressed warm against Pearl’s middle, and Volley’s smile is so particularly beguiling. Pearl hums, and kisses her again. “Just until morning. I want to be home to make Steven breakfast.”

***

“Oh, Starlight,” White Diamond says, leaning down toward little Pink. “No. You’re simply not fit to run a colony.”

“Not _fit?_ ” Pink shouts, and if Pearl were not as good as she is, she might have winced at the power of the sound. “That’s not my _fault!_ You’re the one who made me! You’re the one who wants me to be more like you! How can I do that if you won’t GIVE ME A COLONY?!”

White is unmoved; of course, outwardly, so is Pearl. She stays put in her corner, awaiting a command, watching the proceedings, taking in the almost garish glow of Pink’s furious eyes. At Pink’s right hand stands her pearl, face pleasant and blandly sweet, but her body gives her away. She’s positioned beside her Diamond instead of behind, too familiar, and her rigid limbs speak of barely concealed panic. Still, she’s always been friendly to Pearl, in what little interaction they’ve had. Pearl shifts the angle of her feet, flickers her pinky. _This will be over soon_. An empty reassurance, but Pink Pearl’s eyelids flicker a thank you.

White smiles down at Pink, bemused. “Your little tantrum won’t change my answer.”

Pink’s hands ball into fists. “ _TANTRUM?!_ ” she repeats, face screwed up with rage; there’s a crackle in the air, and the hair on the back of Pearl’s neck stands up. Then Pink Diamond strikes out with her arms and stomps her foot and _shrieks_ , and it's enough to knock Pearl to her knees. 

When her vision clears, there’s a six foot crater in the floor around Pink Diamond—and beside her, glitching heavily and slumped to the cracked floor, lies her pearl.

“You’re proving my point, Starlight,” White says, cold and calm. “How could I trust you with a colony when you can’t even take care of one little toy.”

“I...I didn’t mean to,” Pink Diamond whispers; now her gaze is fixed on the pearl, pupils contracted down to tiny pink pinpricks. White scoffs.

“Pearl, take her to the Reef for repairs and then bring her here to me.”

“Yes, My Diamond,” Pearl murmurs, scrambling to her feet and hurrying across the floor. Pink Pearl is in dire shape, her form glitching so badly that Pearl has to gather up her shapeless limbs into her skirt. Her back is to Pink Diamond, and she has never before felt such an urge to _run_.

Pink shifts behind her, a rustle of fabric. “I’ll take her—”

“You will not. You will go to your room, _immediately_.”

Pearl doesn’t look back, just hurries from the chamber. “You’ll be okay,” she murmurs softly, though she doubts the pearl can hear her; there are cracks spreading through her form, mirroring the cracks in her gem, across her face and head and down her chest. Pearl has to hurry, there’s not much time, where is the _warp pad_ —

The hallway is wrong, too long, too open, why is there grass beneath her feet? Why is she running? Where is Rose?

Then she spots her, shield and sword raised, facing off against an enormous jasper, so huge she must be a fusion, wielding an equally enormous axe. 

There is no other thought in her mind but that Rose _cannot_ be poofed, _cannot_ be hurt, and so Pearl must accept that hurt in her stead. She screams Rose’s name, throws herself between them to meet the giant axe with her sword. Meet it she does, one stroke that could shatter her arms if she had bones to break, and she dives in for a thrust—

Then incredible, _shattering_ pain—

She wakes on the cot in Rose’s tent. Her head aches; with eyes barely slitted open, she raises a hand to prod her gem. Smooth; whole.

“Thank all the goddamn stars in the sky,” comes Bismuth’s voice from somewhere beside her. “I thought you weren’t gonna wake up this time.”

She sounds overwrought, and that’s how Pearl knows she was very, very lucky today. “Bismuth. Where’s Rose?”

“Out on the training ground. She’s pissed as hell, Pearl. You _know_ she hates it when you pull that stunt.”

Pearl rolls to the side a little, forces her eyes open wide enough to make out Bismuth’s form hunched over on a stool. “It doesn’t matter how she feels about it. I’m my own gem, I make my own choices. I choose to protect her.”

“You choose to be reckless and _stupid_ ,” Bismuth hisses, then drops her face into her hands. “It hurts her, Pearl. It hurts her, and it hurts the rest of us. It hurts me to sit here after every battle wondering if this is the time I never see you awake and alive again, if whatever dumb thing I said to you this morning was the last conversation we’ll ever have.”

She’s trembling; it’s startling to notice, and Pearl reaches out to touch her arm. “Bismuth. That’s war. I worry too, of course I do. But we can’t win this without her, and if I shatter keeping her safe then that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

With a slow, deep sigh, Bismuth meets her eyes, reaches out to brush a hand over her gem and back through her hair. “The war’s not worth winning without you.” Then Bismuth gets to her feet. “Rest up, Pearl,” she says, one hand on the tent flap. “Rose says we’re hitting the Ziggurat tomorrow.”

The tent flap slips closed behind her.

***

“Pearl.” She snaps awake, and the water mattress ripples a little at her motion. Volley is sprawled on top of her, face tucked into her neck, one hand lightly resting on her gem. “It’s almost morning.”

The skin of her shoulder is oddly wet; she rests a hand at the back of Volley’s head. “Are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?”

Volley laughs, soft and wobbly. “You did.”

“Oh.” The hand on her gem makes more sense now. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t...remember.”

“It’s okay, you can’t help it,” comes the reply, muffled against her skin. “But maybe we should get you a sleep mask or something. We can keep it here.”

“Okay. Hey...look at me?” Reluctantly Volley pulls back, lifts herself to her elbows, showing all the pale, bare skin she went to sleep with. Her eye is red and puffy, and the cracks in her face that have been receding lately have spread a bit again. Pearl strokes her cheeks with her thumbs, stretches up to kiss her forehead. “Do you want me to stay a while longer?” she asks, soft. 

Volley shakes her head. “I know you’ve been worried about Steven. I don’t want to keep you.”

“Then do you want to come make breakfast with me?”

Though the cling of her limbs to Pearl’s says she doesn’t want to separate for the day, there’s hesitation in her face. “Could we make breakfast... _together_?” she asks, with particular emphasis, her hands curling around Pearl’s shoulders.

Pearl smiles. “Fused? Well, the kitchen might be a little cramped that way, but...let’s give it a try.”

Volley sighs with something like relief, her eye sliding closed, and relaxes down onto Pearl and then _into_ Pearl. Together, she rises from the now-snug nest to greet the day.

***

The sun is just starting to glimmer through the windows when she warps into the house, and all is quiet; Steven’s not awake yet, and Amethyst and Garnet must still be in their rooms. It’s not as tight a fit inside as she feared. She has to duck to pass under the doorway from the warp to the kitchen, and she’ll have to crouch to use the stove and the counters, but she’s flexible and quite up to the task. 

It’s still cool in the early mornings, though summer’s coming fast; after considering the options, she fishes the canister of Moravian Oats from an upper cabinet and gets on her knees to pull a pot from a lower one. _We’ve got some fruit that needs to be eaten soon,_ she thinks to herself, setting milk to boil and kneeling again to get a pan. _And maybe some sunny side up eggs, for protein. He’s seemed so tired lately_.

_Maybe he has bad dreams too._

_Maybe he does. I just wish...whatever’s weighing on him, I wish he’d tell me about it._

It’s a little tricky to slice strawberries with hands too large for all the knives, and for a while she loses herself in the details of preparation; stirring the pot, watching the eggs, washing some blueberries. When the oatmeal’s done she fixes it up with the fruit and a little brown sugar, a dash of maple syrup, bubbles it along with the eggs to keep it fresh and puts the kettle on for tea.

When it whistles she hears the floorboards creak upstairs, and a few minutes later Steven appears in his pajamas, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Morning Pearl—oh. Good morning.” He pauses at the bottom of the stairs, looking suddenly apprehensive. “Is...everything okay?”

“Just fine, Steven,” she replies, smiling to see him in spite of the hesitant welcome. “Just taking some me time. I made breakfast, it’s in the bubble.”

Steven glances at the table where his meal is waiting, then finally gives her a small smile. “Thanks.” 

Pearl pours a cup of tea from the pot for Steven, and another for herself. 

_We don’t have to drink it._

_It’s okay. We can._

She does. She has to sit on the floor next to the table to be the right height to lean her elbows on it, but there’s plenty of space. She sips her tea and tries not to watch too intensely as Steven pops the bubble and starts eating; after every few bites, he yawns. “You look tired,” she says, reaching across to tame his bedhead with her fingers.

“I’m fine,” he says with a smile. 

A fake smile, but she doesn’t call him on it. “Okay.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, talking around a mouthful of egg. “So that’s not just a _my_ Pearl thing, huh?”

“What?”

He smiles again, and this time it’s closer to reaching his eyes. “Fussing.”

“Oh!” she says, and pulls her hand back. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Just...you know. Getting to know you. Most of the fusions I know are made of people I also know pretty well. You’re a little different.”

“Well, I’m still getting to know me too,” she says with a little smile, and goes back to her tea. “So far, I’ve learned I like tea. Also sunrise. Oh, and flower crowns. That was from another day.”

“I like all those things too,” Steven says, mixing up the oatmeal a bit with his spoon and then digging out a glob with a blueberry in it. “D’you wanna try this? It’s really good.” He tips the bowl her way, and then laughs at her queasy expression. 

“No thanks. But Volleyball is going to add it to her list.”

With a grin and a shrug he pulls it back to him, eating another mouthful. “How about roller skating? That’s a new thing I’m trying today.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “That’s a no in the other direction. Volley’s not ready for that much human interaction. But Pearl’s very excited to go with you.”

“I’m excited too! It’ll be really good to see Connie. She’s been so busy studying.” Steven’s smile falters a little, and she nods.

“Connie has been working hard, hasn’t she? You must miss her, now that she doesn’t visit as often.”

For a moment he looks like he might wave it off, tell her again that everything is fine; she’s anticipating it, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he slowly chews another bite of food, looking down at his bowl. “Yeah. I do.”

“Have you told her?”

Steven blinks, glancing back up at her. “That I miss her?”

“Yes.” She confirms. “It might not change anything, if she really is so busy she can’t get away, but I’m sure she’d like to know.”

Shaking his head, Steven pushes his mostly empty dishes away. “I don’t want to pressure her. She has a life of her own, and plans, I can’t get in the way of that.”

“Well...shouldn’t that be up to her to decide? It’s her life, and her plans; she can’t make informed decisions about what she wants if she doesn’t have all the information.” She gets up and gathers the dishes, brings them over to the sink. “It’s all right to want to be close to the people you love.” 

“Is that why you’re fused today?”

_Oh, he’s very good at deflecting, isn’t he?_

_Yes, it’s a little worrying. But I’m not...sure what to do about it._

She starts scrubbing the dishes. “It’s one reason. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I don’t know yet about Volleyball, but Pearl doesn’t really fuse without a reason.” He joins her at the sink, dries the dishes as she places them in the rack. “A battle, or something else big that needs a giant woman.”

“You’re very observant.”

“I know Pearl,” he says, putting his bowl away. “I mean, I’ve fused with her. It always kind of feels like...there’s this craving. That she’s just ignoring.”

“Steven—”

“I’m sorry, I guess maybe that’s kind of personal.” He looks up at her, tugging at the dishtowel in his hands a little anxiously. “I’m just trying to say, I’m glad you’re here. For no reason. I know Pearl and Volleyball have a different kind of thing going on, but...if she wants to fuse more, she can just ask me, or Amethyst, or Garnet. We don’t need an excuse.”

“That’s very good advice, Steven,” she says, kneeling to pull him into a hug. “You ought to take it too.”

Then the temple door slides open with a squelch, revealing Amethyst’s room. “—so then I said, ‘that’s _not_ butter!’” Amethyst cackles and Garnet gives a quiet, amused hum.

“Good morning, you two.”

“Heeeey, Mega P! Steve-o! You having a _moment_ in here or something?”

Steven laughs, pulling back; she lets him go, and holds out the empty teapot she hasn’t yet washed. “I saved you the teabags.”

“SWEET!” 

***

It was an _excellent_ idea to invite Bismuth to roller skating, Pearl reflects on the drive home. She can’t really take her eyes off the road, but she’s known Bismuth for thousands of years; she doesn’t have to _look_ to know she’s radiating the kind of satisfied happiness that makes her so approachable in the first place. In the back seat, Steven and Connie are murmuring and giggling to each other in between yawns. 

“Connie, should I drop you off at home?” she asks, and Connie finds her eyes in the rearview mirror.

“I gave myself the whole night off,” she says with a smile. “Would it be okay if I came over for some tea? Lion can bring me home later.”

“You know you’re always welcome,” Pearl assures her, quietly pleased, and murmured conversation in the back seat resumes.

Beside her, Bismuth chuckles. “Those two had a good night, huh?” she says under her breath.

“Seems so. I’m glad.”

They pass the rest of the ride in comfortable quiet.

When they pull up back at the beach and pile out of the Dondai, Bismuth groans and stretches her arms above her head. "I think I'll walk the rest of the way. It's a nice night."

"I'll come with you," Pearl replies, reaching for her hand. She pretends not to see the conspiratorial glance that passes between Steven and Connie; Bismuth ignores it too, but there’s the barest tinge of a flush on her cheeks in the dark.

"I'm a big gem, Pearl, you don't have to walk me home."

Pearl just smiles. "I want to."

They stroll along the beach just as comfortably as they skated side by side; it feels like an opportunity, and Pearl hums the Cam’s Camshafts jingle idly as she searches for just the right thing to say. 

Before she can speak, Bismuth beats her to it. "I'm so inspired by you," she says, and seems a little surprised to have said it.

Startled, Pearl glances up at her. "What? Why?"

"You're _happy_ ," Bismuth says, blushing harder. "After everything you've been through. Steady. Living your life. Growing as a person. It's...it's everything you deserve. I wasn't even sure we'd _survive_ , let alone...all this." She gestures around, to the placid beach, the towers of Little Homeworld in the distance. "You make it easy for the rest of us to be happy too."

Pearl winds her arms around Bismuth's elbow, leans a cheek against her bicep. "Oh, Bismuth. You're a big part of that. Having you back made me feel like the war was really over, like I could finally set aside some of that pain and move forward. Make connections without being afraid or ashamed." Pearl squeezes her arm. "I want you to have that too."

"Well, I really liked your friends," Bismuth replies. Pleased, Pearl smiles against her arm.

"Did you get any numbers? Or see anything you like, as the humans say?"

Bismuth huffs a little laugh. "Nah. I mean, they all seem cool, we can hang. But I'm not really...looking, you know?"

"Not looking, hmm?" Pearl says softly; she slides her arm down Bismuth's to lace their fingers together. "Then why were you holding my hand all night?"

Bismuth stumbles, flushing harder as Pearl steadies her and tugs her along. "Pearl, c'mon."

"There aren't human words to explain what you mean to me, Bismuth," she says, looking ahead as they walk. If this is happening now, she wants to get it _right_. "There aren't gem words either. Maybe we can try to figure it out, if you want to. But you're _important_ , and I love you. I need you to know that."

"You tryin' to make me cry?" Bismuth’s voice wobbles. "Of course I know that. I love you too. Any way you want an old soldier like me to love you, I do. I just want you to keep being happy, keep having this whole life you've built. Steven, the Crystal Gems, your humans, Volley and the other pearls...you've got so much good going on."

This brings Pearl to a stop, planting her feet in the sand and pulling Bismuth around by the open placket of her shirt. "And you," she says fiercely as they finally lock eyes, _willing_ her to understand. Then she stretches up on tiptoes, leans in to plant a kiss on the corner of Bismuth’s mouth, firm and warm. "Don't forget you."

Bismuth’s arms come around her, warm and solid. There’s an irrepressible smile spreading across her face, a soft look in her eyes that Pearl could really, really get used to. "I mean,” she murmurs, “I am an original Crystal Gem."

"You are," Pearl says, and kisses her again.


	4. Epilogue

Embarrassingly, it’s movie night at the beach house when Bismuth warps in with several enormous, oddly-shaped packages wrapped in brown paper and declares “Pearl! Your _special order_ is ready!”

Pearl is quite comfortably curled up with Volleyball in the corner of the couch, leaving the bulk of it for Garnet to stretch her legs out with her feet propped in Amethyst’s lap. Steven, Lapis, and Peridot are sprawled on cushions on the floor. They’re all quite absorbed in the direct-to-tv adaptation of The No-Home Boys, but not absorbed enough to ignore a declaration like that, in a voice as booming as Bismuth’s. Steven fumbles for the pause button and everyone turns to stare as Bismuth sets her parcels down, grinning madly.

“Special order, huh?” Amethyst says into the resounding silence, waggling her eyebrows; Lapis snorts and buries her face in a pillow.

Volley squeals and leaps to her feet. “Oh! Your nest!”

“ _Nest?_ ” Peridot repeats, sounding baffled, and Amethyst cackles.

“Oh ho ho, a _love nest?_ Get it, P!”

Lapis muffles another shriek of laughter in her pillow and Steven covers his ears with his hands. “Nope, I didn’t hear that!”

Pearl can feel her face burning with a blush. “Amethyst! Don’t be inappropriate.” She gives her a smack to the back of the head as she hurries over to the warp pad, Volley at her heels, and opens the temple door to her room. “Bring it all in here, Bismuth.”

“Should we wait for you?” Steven calls, uncertain, and Amethyst grabs the remote and hits play.

“ _Definitely_ not.”

“Amethyst!” Steven wails.

Practically glowing with embarrassment, Pearl hurries Bismuth and Volley through the door and sighs as it shuts behind them.

“Sorry about that,” Bismuth says with a grin. She doesn’t look the least bit sorry. “I just couldn’t wait another minute to show you. Where are we settin’ this baby up?”

“This way, I did a little reconstruction in here…” she hefts one of the packages and leads them along a curved footpath over the water, between the fountains until they reach one at the back of the room. At her approach, the cascading water parts like a curtain, revealing a solid round platform inside. “Right here.”

“Incredible,” Bismuth says with awe, dropping her burdens again; Volley latches onto Pearl’s arm and kisses her cheek.

“A perfect spot.”

Together they tear away all the paper, Pearl exclaiming over each piece as they set it up: first the wide, heavy stand and the enormous bowl that rests on top of it, then the plush cushion that sits inside and the soft, shaggy cover that fits over, all patches of different greens like a grassy meadow. Then the slender wooden arm that curves up from the chair back, a sheer curtain hung from it that’s dotted with pink flecks like cherry blossoms, draping all the way to the floor.

“Bismuth,” Pearl breathes, stepping back to take it in fully. “It’s beautiful.” She swallows around the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

“Don’t get me started, now,” Bismuth warns, and leans down to kiss the top of her head.

“Come on,” Volley says, and grabs both of their hands, tugging them forward. “We have to test it out.”

They let Bismuth settle into it first, to make sure she has enough space, and crawl in after when she opens her arms in invitation; Pearl curls up against Bismuth’s chest with Volley pressed against her back, and lets out a slow, wavering sigh. “Perfect,” she whispers, and closes her eyes against a gentle swell of tears.

***

“Please, please understand,” Rose says, her face troubled, Pearl on one knee at her feet. “If we lose, we’ll be killed. And if we win, we can never go home.”

The moon is high behind her, and the sky glittering with stars; Rose seems to glow, otherworldly. Just past her left shoulder, Pearl can see Homeworld’s galaxy. There was something straightforward, comforting, about life on Homeworld. Fulfilling her purpose, knowing what was expected of her. Nothing about the brewing rebellion is certain—nothing except Rose.

Pearl stares at her, smiling a little in disbelief. “Why would I ever want to go home, if you’re here?”

Rose laughs, just a little; she holds out her hand. “My Pearl.” 

It’s acquiescence, permission; Pearl sags a little with relief. “You’re wonderful.” She takes Rose’s offered hand, dares to lace their fingers together. The touch thrills her down to her core.

“And you’re brave,” Rose tells her, soft and sure, and her thumb rubs soothing circles on the side of Pearl’s hand. “You’re going to choose, and change, and grow, Pearl. You’re going to be _free_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you like, I'm a-big-apple there!


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